The Belgum Potion
by TwoFaced2
Summary: Lupin, Black, and Snape take a potion that youth them to become students of Hogwarts once again on a mission to protect Harry from Voldemort's grasp. Thing is... Harry can't know what's going on. What shall come of this twisted plot?
1. Prologue

  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of these characters, sadly. Even though sometimes I like to pretend I am, I am not J. K. Rowling either. Darn my luck.

Enjoy, won't you?

  
  
**THE BELGUM POTION**  
Prologue

Harry stood in front of the blazing fire, the heat of the flames caressing his pale face. The room was darkly lit with the foul smell of blood in the air; standing behind him was a small group of men, cloaked from head to toe, bowing down low to the floor.  
  
"What news do you have for me," Harry asked the men, his back to them. "It had better be good... I am growing tired of waiting."  
  
"My Lord," said one of the voices behind the mask, "it is good news I bring to you, I assure you. We have caught one of the men from the Order, just as you commanded."  
  
Harry turned around with interest and stared down at the death eater. An evil smile spread across his lips. "You may rise," he hissed. "You have done well, Lucius. Tell me, who is the fool?"  
  
"Mundungus Fletcher, Master. We found him just outside a cauldron shop late last night and caught him off guard. He practically walked right into our trap."  
  
Harry laughed. "Perfect, perfect... you have done well, Lucius.... _Avery_!" The man kneeling on the ground net to Malfoy bolted on to his feet, awaiting his instructions.  
  
"Y-yes my Lord?"  
  
"Alert Severus Snape to create a Veritaserum for our special guest. We will need Fletcher to give us information on the prophecy," he commanded. "He's currently positioned at Hogwarts, but will be arriving at the old bell tower down the street in one hour's time. I expect you to meet him and alert him of his mission right away. We have no time to waste... I'm sure the Order is already out looking for the fool as we speak."  
  
"Yes, Master," Nott said, bowing down and kissing the hem of his robes. "Anything for you, Master..."  
  
Harry turned his back to him in disgust, staring back into the fire. "Get out of my sight. All of you... you are dismissed." Behind him, he could hear his loyal death eaters dissaparate out of the room, leaving him all alone. Just how he liked it, he decided. All was silent but Nagini's soft hisses, whom circled his feet slowly.  
  
"I can sense you," he said to himself. "I know you are here, boy... I can feel it." He smiled wickedly, his eyes flaring as Harry's feet moved swiftly across the room to the mirror that hung on the concrete wall. He peered into it.  
  
Voldemort's face smiled back.  
  
"Believe me, I'm going to get you. No one--not Dumbledore, not Lupin--will be able to save you now, I promise you that. You won't be so lucky as to escape me again." He brought up a hand to his face, laughing his evil laugh as he slit his cheek with his nail. Fresh blood trickled down his chin. "I'm going to make you feel pain... a pain no one has ever felt before I kill you."  
  
"Harry Potter… you are _mine_!"  
  
A hundred, perhaps a thousand miles away, the real Harry Potter awoke with a yell, his hand holding desperately onto his forehead, and a bloody cheek pouring down his chin.  
  
More to come, more to come. Much, much more to come.

Preview of Chapter One: In The Dark


	2. In The Dark

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters are not mine, nor am I the writer of the novels.

  
**THE BELGUM POTION**  
Chapter One: In the Dark

At first, Harry could not move. Terror gripped him and prohibited him from any physical or mental actions.

The pain in his scar was slowly dying down to a burning sensation. It had been so painful only a few moments ago… so painful it felt as if his head would split in half from the pain. But he was growing used to the agony it brought him, if it were possible. Ever since the return of Voldmort, it would steadily growing worse, without mercy.

But Harry didn't expect any mercy.  
  
His pajamas stuck to his skin uncomfortably due to the sweat that covered him from head to toe. He wiped the cut's blood off his cheek, which was just a moment ago making its way to his neck.  
  
Achingly, Harry stood up from his bed warily, clenching his fists as he did so. 'I knew it,' he thought to himself angrily. 'I knew I shouldn't have fallen asleep...' He looked to the clock by his bed. It was 2 A.M.... he had only received three hours of sleep.  
  
It seemed to Harry that every time he would shut his eyes, he would be paying Voldemort a visit. So, his goal for the summer had been not to sleep at all, but he was finding it to be quite an impossible task. He managed to stay away for 4 whole days so far, but ended his streak after fainting on his bed three hours before. He cursed himself.  
  
But this dream was better than all the others. In this dream... no one died. Sometimes 1, 2, or 5 people were murdered.  
  
Harry held up his hand to the deep wound on his cheek.

But this… this experience was new to him... very different. This had never happened before. He stared at the blood on his hand with confusion. What had happened?  
  
It seemed as if Voldemort had controlled his actions... as if, in that dream, they were _one_. One in the same. Harry was thousands of miles away from the Dark Lord, he was sure of it. But here, in very Privet Drive, Voldemort had controlled Harry's hand… and swiped his cheek own cheek…  
  
This could _not _be good, thought Harry.  
  
He wasn't dense–he knew that Voldemort figured out the connection they shared. Professor Lupin said that he might. Harry always had the ability to feel the Dark Lord's emotions, and could even pay him a visit when daydreaming or sleeping. Would Voldemort do the same thing now that he knew of the connection?  
  
Now that the most feared wizard of all time knew of this bond they shared, the idea terrified Harry. Voldemort was, in fact, much, much more powerful than he was.  
  
Harry paced around his room. What was this Order Malfoy spoke of? And who was this Mundungus Fletcher? The name seemed somewhat familiar. Harry thought hard... he also recalled something about a prophecy being said.  
  
Harry looked to Hedwig. She was watching him intently beneath the bars of his cage. No, Harry thought to himself. Recalling Sirius' last letter, letters were out of the question:  
  
_Do not use owl post. Letters can be intercepted, it's too risky. Don't send any, or expect any._

If you must reach me, you know what to do.  
  
Keep safe, stay where you are, and don't do anything stupid.  
  
  
Harry moved to his bed and bent down, reaching under the floorboard for a small, square mirror.

It was the week that Harry returned to Privet Drive that he had received a package from his godfather, with a note saying:  
  
_I'm not cruel enough to leave you in the dark, even though a certain someone's mother wishes me to. This is our way of communication. Just look into it, and say my name. Our little secret._

Harry looked into the mirror. Sirius had made him swear that every dream Harry had, he would tell him right away. He said it was extremely important, but wouldn't tell him why.  
  
Harry hated it. Despite what his godfather said about not leaving him in the dark, he was _still _kept out of all happenings in the wizarding world. Sirius told him that he was sworn by Dumbledore not to say a word on anything until they could talk in person. He couldn't even know where Sirius currently was. Harry tried not to be mad at the old Headmaster, knowing that he probably had his reasons... but still...  
  
Didn't Harry deserve more than anyone to know about what was going on in the Wizarding World? Usually, the not-knowing nagged at him daily. Hadn't he been the one in the graveyard with him? Wasn't he the one who saw his rebirth? Harry shook his head. He didn't ever want to think about that night again... about Cedric.  
  
Throwing his thoughts aside for the moment, he sat on his bed with the mirror, and said his godfather's name.  
  
"Sirius Black."  
  
For about a minute, nothing happened. He stared hard into the glass, seeing nothing but his own green eyes staring back.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry smiled widely, forgetting his worries at the moment at the sight of his godfather. He had obviously been sleeping a moment before, which came to no surprise at all. His hair was sticking in all different kinds of directions.  
  
"Hi, Sirius. Did I wake you?" Harry asked, feeling stupid after asking it.  
  
"No... it's only three in the morning," he kidded. But his face was serious. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah," he lied.  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So you woke me up at three in the morning for _nothing_?" He shook his head. "I don't think so. You had another dream...."  
  
It wasn't a question. Harry nodded his head slightly. "Yeah."  
  
"Is that Harry?" he heard a voice say in the background.  
  
"Yeah," Sirius said very seriously. "He had another dream, Remus."  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
Remus broke the silence. "Record what he says, Sirius... I'll alert Albus." Harry heard footsteps, followed by a door slam.Why was it so important, Harry wondered? What was going on that he didn't know about? He suddenly felt angry.  
  
Sirius just looked at him, as if expecting Harry to start speaking. Harry found that he couldn't.  
  
"What is going on, Sirius?" Harry asked. "What is it that I don't know about?"  
  
Sirius rubbed his eyes. "We've already been through this, Harry..."  
  
"I just don't understand. _Why_ can't you just tell me? Do you know what it's like? Being left in the dark?"  
  
Sirius' face grew sympathetic as he looked at his godson. Oh, how it pained him to see Harry this way.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry... Dumbledore–"  
  
"Yeah, what about him?" He said heatedly, his emotions getting the better of him at the moment. He immediately regretted saying it.  
  
"I'm... I'm sorry Sirius. It's just..."  
  
Sirius nodded. "It's okay, Harry. I understand. I'm in the same situation you are, believe it or not. Now that Voldemort knows my animagus form, I'm useless to Dumbledore." There was a small silence. Harry was quite aware of his godfather's position in a mirror session before. "I promise you, Harry... I'm going to get you away from the Dursley's as _soon_ as I can manage it. And I'll tell you everything I can tell you then."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes mentally. Everything he _can_ tell him? As in: I will only tell you what Dumbledore _told_ me to tell you. He didn't say this aloud, however.  
  
Being at the Dursley's had been a nightmare this year. He was always in a terrible state. His lack of sleep, constant burning of his scar and dreams of Voldemort took so much out of him, he could barely stand by the end of the day. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley hadn't been making it too easy on him, with the chores he had to do day in and day out. Plus, knowing Voldemort was reborn and not knowing what was going on in the wizarding world practically drove him _nuts_.  
  
In fact, a couple of times he even thought seriously about running away and breaking into the Wizarding World, just to find out. Every time he got near the door, though, a note would always come through the mail slot:  
  
_  
Stay where you are._  
  
Harry didn't recognize the handwriting, but he knew enough to turn around and go back inside each time.  
  
"Well..." Harry took in a deep breath, and told Sirius everything that had happened in his dream, exactly how he had remembered it.  
  
"...and Lucius Malfoy was there, too... along with Nott. They said that they caught a man... a Mundungus Fletcher of some kind of Order," he paused when he heard his godfather take in breath. "What's wrong? Do you know him?  
  
Sirius nodded. "He was reported missing last night..." he whispered. "Our worst fears... poor Mundungus..." Sirius said to himself, muttering the words.  
  
"What? What worst fears? Who is this guy?"  
  
But Sirius would tell him nothing. Very frustrated, but willing to continue, he went on with the story. As he came to the part about the prophecy, Sirius's eyes grew wide.  
  
Harry stopped. "Er–Sirius? Is something wrong?"  
  
Sirius wouldn't speak right away. The look on his face made Harry feel even _more_ frustrated. So much was going on that he didn't know about….  
  
"Sirius, this is enough!" Harry said, his voice raising. "If you don't tell me what's going on, I'm going to have to–"  
  
Harry gasped. Did he just hear a door open? He waited. A minute later, he heard a crack out in the hallway, just outside his door.  
  
He looked back to Sirius, who had already left the mirror. He must have heard it, too, thought Harry. Panicking, he quickly threw the mirror under the loose floorboard, and put a hand on his wand, which stuck out loosely from his pajama pocket.  
  
Opening the door widely, he saw nothing. 'Maybe I'm just being paranoid,' Harry thought. But a little nagging sensation told him that he wasn't just being paranoid... that someone _was_ actually watching him. He knew it... he could feel it.  
  
He raised his wand out in front of him, stepping out into the hallway. It didn't take him many steps to figure out who it was. Standing right on the stairway behind a wall was his cousin, Dudley.  
  
Harry sighed, placing the wand back into his pocket. He feared it might have been… someone else.  
  
"What are you doing up, Dudley?" He asked, annoyed. His cousin had just interrupted his visit with his godfather, leaving Harry in the worst of moods.  
  
"I should ask you the same question," Dudley said, hiding the fear under his voice. His eyes kept slipping to the sight of Harry's wand.  
  
"I-I'll tell mum... you were doing that... that stuff again. You _were_, weren't you? I heard you m-murmuring in there. You woke me up."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, but his cousin missed it due to the heavy darkness. "Yes, that's what I was doing," he chuckled. "Such a clever boy, Duddy-kins," Harry said the words Petunia said to him the day before in a squeaky high-pitched voice.  
  
Dudley's pig-fists clenched. "Don't do it," said Dudley angrily, keeping a tap on his emotions. "Don't start with me. I'll yell... I swear I will!"  
  
Harry knew that his cousin would, and didn't feel like having a purple Vernon in his face, screaming at him. Instead of going on with annoying his cousin, he turned around and made his way back to his room. "You're sixteen, and you still cry to mummy," he said under his breath. He closed the door behind him.  
  
For a moment, he just stood there, thinking, as he heard Dudley's footsteps descend down the stairs, probably on the hunt for food. He knew Sirius would be waiting for him to contact him again, but for some reason, he didn't want to. He did, in fact, tell him mostly everything that happened, didn't he?  
  
Harry shook his head. Of course he didn't.... He didn't tell him the part about Voldemort addressing him, or the fact that Voldemort controlled his emotions. But, for some reason, he didn't _want_ to tell his godfather.

If he wasn't going to tell _him _anything, well, then Harry wouldn't return the favor.  
  
What good would come of it anyway? Sirius would look at Harry with shock, write something down on a piece of parchment (to later tell Dumbledore, no doubt), and look at him with sympathy. Harry couldn't stand not being told what was going on. _He_ was the one finding this out for them, _he_ was the one Voldemort was after... _he_ deserved to know! He had _every right _to know.  
  
Harry grabbed his Potions text book, and sat down at his desk, beginning to read. He had read the whole book, along with all his other thick books, at least twice. It was his way to escape sleep, and to escape thoughts about… last year…  
  
The last thing Harry ever wanted to do was dream... ever again. He knew it was impossible to escape sleep... it was just something you needed. Harry yawned. He never slept, hardly ate, and the dreams of Voldemort took so much out of him, he began feeling sick daily. Sick, weak, and sleepy. He was in a right state, and he didn't know how much more of this he could take.  
  
But he had to be strong. Much, much more was awaiting him in the future... things he couldn't even begin to dream of.

Review if you liked it... review if you didn't. As always, suggestions, ideas, or whatever is welcomed.

Preview of Chapter Two: The Belgum Potion

"This is the reason why I have assembled you three," Dumbledore said, looking deeply troubled. "Harry is in mortal danger... danger than he could never dream of, especially now that he has realized their connection. He is much too young to deal with the wrath of Voldemort. We must get him stronger and continue his education at Hogwarts. He will need protection."  
  
"W-wait a second!" Snape jumped up from his chair, suddenly seeing where this was going, as only Snape could. "Did you say... _protection_?"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I did not stutter, Severus."  
  
"You can't mean–"  
  
"I do."  
  
"_Bodyguards_?"  
  
"Correct."


	3. The Belgum Potion

Disclaimers: As much as I would LOVE to, I don't take credit for Rowling's works. I'm not actually writing the official book 5, duh, but this is just my version.

  
**THE BELGUM POTION**

Chapter Two: The Belgum Potion

Hundreds of miles away from Privet Drive, Sirius Black was in his kitchen with a flask of butterbeer. After contact with his godson was lost, he had found it quite possible to return to sleep, with the haunting image of Harry in his mind.

He had looked so sick… it looked like he himself was receiving time in Azkaban. And the look of betrayel on his godson's face when Sirius himself had refused to give him the information he wanted… well, let's just say, he wouldn't be going back to sleep tonight. If only Harry knew how hard it was to keep his word to Dumbledore…

"Sirius, I must warn you," Dumbledore had told him but a week ago in the very same kitchen. "You cannot say any of what we have discussed to Harry."  
  
"_What_?" Sirius had exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic. "Why not? He deserves to know! After all he's been through..."  
  
Dumbledore had nodded, suddenly seeming more weak and old than ever before. "That is exactly my point," he spoke sadly. "After all he's been through, he has enough to think about. Telling him this..." he shook his head, "might destroy him. The ones who are keeping guard over him have reported that he is not well as it is."  
  
Sirius just stared at him, not wanting to understand, but doing so all the same. "So… then, what do you _want _me to do? He is going to want answers, after all he's been through last year…"  
  
Remus, who was sitting right beside him, put a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Sirius... at least wait until he's here to tell him. He'll have you, and that will be the biggest comfort in the world for him. Just give it some time... it will all work out for the better in the end."  
  
"Remus is right," said Dumbledore. "Harry is not strong enough yet to handle this great burden on his own. He will need our help, and every bit of our strength for him to make his way through this." Dumbledore put his hand on his other shoulder, his bright blue eyes looking straight into Sirius's. "You must trust me, Sirius. This is for the best."Sirius shook his head as the image faded, throwing his thoughts aside. Dumbledore was right... Sirius was doing the right thing. He was doing the right thing. He was doing the right thing... _the right thing... the right thing..._

He could not tell Harry the prophecy. It would destroy any normal wizard, he was sure of it.  
  
He threw his head down onto the tables hard wooden surface, as if he could not hold himself up anymore.  
  
"Something wrong, Sirius?"  
  
Sirius's head jerked up at the sudden sound, making him momentarily dizzy. Remus Lupin was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.  
  
"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, unfortunately," he droned, perking his lips up for a smile for his old friend. "When did you get back?" he said, standing up. "What did Dumbledore say about Harry's dream?"  
  
"He said exactly what he said last time... and the last, and the last."  
  
Sirius looked at him. "..._And_?"  
  
"_And_…" he shrugged, "nothing else. Just that he had it under control and that Harry was being watched very closely. He said that he knew already of the dream and all of its happenings. The one on guard must have reported the news to Albus right away. Which," he added, "is a reason for Dumbledore telling you not to say anything too important on that mirror of yours."  
  
"You mean that mirror of _ours_, Remus. We used it back then, as you know all too well."  
  
"Yes, but not when we relayed our serious conversations," he said. "We knew better... as you should, by now."  
  
Sirius ignored the comment. "Who is this person 'on guard' , anyway? Are you sure Harry is being watched closely? What if–"  
  
Remus butted in. "Arabella Figg is perfectly capable of looking over herself _and_ Harry, you know that. She is an extremely talented auror."  
  
Sirius rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, well... she had better be." He sighed. "She may be able to protect him physically, but mentally... I'm not too sure."  
  
Remus said nothing. The silence made it clear that his friend agreed with him.  
  
"You should have seen him on the other side of that mirror, Remus... he looks dead on his feet. Those damn people he lives with are treating him terribly. That damn sister of Lily's… do you remember the stories Lily told about her and that fiancé of hers, Verny?"

"Vernon? Why, yes, I do, actually," Remus recalled. "When she would tell James about her summer, I remember fits of rage, along with plenty of tears."

"More of the fits of rage, though," Sirius said, holding out his pinky. "I still have that scar when she threw James's glasses at my face. I was lucky enough to protect my face from the glass, but this little guy wasn't as lucky."

"God forbid if your face was damaged."

"It was the pride of my youth."

"I'm sure."

"But, if Petunia is anything like Lily described her--I met her myself once, and it wasn't too pleasant--I'm sure he's in a rough state. And those dreams aren't helping either. They're draining him, Remus, I could sense it. Why can't we just get him the hell out of there?"

"Ah, Sirius. But you know that answer all too well," said a voice.  
  
Remus spun around on his feet as Sirius jerked his head up. It was now Dumbledore standing in Sirius's kitchen doorway, smiling down at the two.  
  
"Albus! When did you arrive?" Lupin asked. "I just left your office a minute ago."  
  
"I felt I was needed here," Dumbledore answered. "I have decided to call together some of the Order for a small meeting."  
  
"A meeting? We had one just yesterday evening, if I'm not mistaken," said Remus. "I was sure the next meeting wasn't until next Friday."  
  
"But this does not concern the whole order. Only a select few."  
  
"And who would they be?" Sirius asked stupidly, knowing very well the answer.  
  
"Well... yourself and Remus, of course."  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a chair was set before him. Highly furnished and cushioned, he set himself on it before casting three more chairs in front of him.  
  
"Please, sit. What I have to tell you all will take some time. Make yourselves comfortable," he said politely. "We have much to discuss."  
  
Sirius and Lupin took their seats in a disturbed manner. There was something in Dumbledore's voice that made this situation seem uncomfortable.  
  
"Are we expecting someone else?" Lupin asked, eyeing the empty chair curiously.  
  
"In fact, we are," said a voice. Looking toward the doorway a third time, Severus Snape stood, his arms folded and his lip curling. He looked toward Sirius with disgust.  
  
Sirius stood up from his chair. "What the... what is _he_ doing here, Albus!?" he said angrily, eyeing Snape with loathing.  
  
"Exactly what I would like to know, Headmaster," Snape said, looking toward Dumbledore. "You said nothing about this dog and werewolf being present at this meeting."  
  
"Please, Severus... take a seat. We have no time to waste."  
  
Sirius continued to stand. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a date with Voldemort?!"  
  
Snape jumped a bit at the name, but held his posture. He snarled. "Shut your mouth, mutt. I've been doing things for the Order that you could never imagine." He smiled. "Though how could you... you're too busy sitting in this filthy house all day, doing absolutely nothing."  
  
"I'd rather be here than by Voldemort's side, thank you very much," he shot back, grabbing his wand as he did so. Snape followed suit from across the room. "How is Voldemort these days? Are you both back to being good ol' pals, like last time? Is he inviting you over for tea yet, or did he just jump right to the wedding?"  
  
Dumbledore held up his hand, and immediately Sirius and Snape grew quiet. "I have told you once, and I will tell you again, but I will _not_ tell you a third time. We must make friends here. There is a great deal on both of your shoulders, and nothing can be done without a truce between the two of you. We are in the middle of a war... we have no time for such arguments."  
  
He looked between the two with the utmost calmness. Meanwhile, Lupin was rubbing his forehead, looking frustrated.

Some things just never changed.  
  
Sirius sat down in defeat, his wand dangling lazily from his fingers. Following suite, Snape took his own seat before inching away from Sirius's chair, as Sirius did the same.  
  
The headmaster remained silent.  
  
"What is it you wish to tell us, Albus?" Remus asked him, breaking the silence. "Your silence isn't very comforting. Did something happen?"  
  
Sirius straightened in his chair. "My god, did something happen to–"  
  
"Nothing has happened to Harry," Dumbledore reassured him. "Not yet, anyway."  
  
Sirius's eyes grew wide. "Is he in danger? What's wrong, Albus?"  
  
"Please, I ask you to calm yourself. I have much to tell," he said, resting his head back upon his chair.  
  
Severus remained tentative. He could sense something was troubling the headmaster, but what that was, he did not know. In a few moments time, he was sure to find out.  
  
"It seems that Harry is in mortal danger," he began, looking very old and weary as he did so. "Worse than we had expected, I'm afraid. Much, much worse."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, on the edge of his seat.  
  
"You remember me telling you of the dreams he has been having?" The three nodded. "Well, it has become official last night, as you and Remus well know, Sirius. Voldemort has discovered the bond he and Harry share."  
  
Snape clenched his chair at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, but Dumbledore ignored it.  
  
"What has got me deeply troubled is the news that Arabella Figg has told me last night. A part of information that Harry has not told even you, Sirius."  
  
"What? What is it?" Sirius asked. He was sure that Harry had told him everything before the time when he had to leave. What could his godson have kept from him?  
  
"Sirius... she saw him cut himself in his sleep."  
  
"_What_?" Remus asked, alarmed. "Tell me he was just dreaming, Professor. It wasn't... it couldn't of been _him_–"  
  
"I'm afraid it was, Remus. It seems that Voldemort has learned of the connection between the two of them far earlier than I would have expected him to. I also suspected that Voldemort would soon address him, perhaps to put the boy on his guard or bid him warning. But controlling his very actions… this is something I did not expect."

"Wait a minute," Sirius said, sitting up straighter in his chair, if it were possible. He would soon be standing. "You're telling me that… that Voldemort _controlled _Harry last night?"

"Indeed."

"But… but…"

"And after tonight, I am afraid that Voldemort will stop at nothing to kill him…"  
  
"Tonight?" Sirius asked desperately. "What is happening tonight!?"  
  
"As you know, Mundungus is in the hands of the enemy now. I have a source," he looked toward Snape, "informing me of a Veritaserum that the Dark Lord has ordered on Mundungus. He will be questioning him at approximately 6 o'clock tonight, if I'm not mistaken."  
  
"No!" Lupin said, on his feet now. "Mundungus! He'll tell, Albus! He'll let him know–"  
  
"We cannot do a thing to stop it," Dumbledore said sadly. "Mundungus is quite alone..."  
  
"Don't tell me that!" Sirius yelled. "There's got to be something... anything you can do! Mundungus will be _killed_ after the Veritaserum wears off. He'll be _tortured_, Albus!"  
  
Albus rubbed his eyes. "I can do nothing. I have already tried, believe me, in more ways than you can possibly imagine…"  
  
Remus fell into his seat, breathless. Sirius rested his head on his arms. "So... He will ask him about the prophecy, then..." Sirius whispered. It was not a question, but a statement.  
  
"I am sure that it will come up, yes," Dumbledore confirmed sadly, closing his eyes.  
  
Remus shook his head, "This is the worst thing that could happen to Harry..." he said, trying to keep his voice even. "After all the things he's been through... so much worse will come to pass now."  
  
Snape stayed silent.  
  
"Dumbledore, there's got to be something!" Sirius said desperately.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"Anything!"  
  
"There is not." Dumbledore said. "But all is not lost. It was only a matter of time before he found out, after all."  
  
"So what are we to do then, Albus?" Snape cut in, talking for the first time in several minutes. "Why have you assembled the three of us here, and not the whole Order?" He had a suspicious tone in his voice.

"Oh, the Order shall know of this," Dumbledore said. "But as for the reason I brought together you three, I am just getting to."  
  
"Sirius and Snape, you have known the prophecy for fifteen years, as you have found out just recently, Lupin," he said. "You know it by heart, when it states that '_one cannot live while the other survives_.'"  
  
Sirius shivered at the prophecy's words. He always hated to hear them being spoken aloud. He could bare speaking the Dark Lord's name, but the words of the prophecy, for some reason, seemed to spook him.  
  
He looked at them all with the utmost seriousness. "You do know what this means, do you not, after Voldemort learns of this this evening?"  
  
"He'll stop at nothing to kill Potter," Snape cut in. "He has already sunken deep into the boy's mind, and with this information, he will have a drive like no other to kill him," Snape said in a blank tone. "A Dark Lord with a drive will make him more dangerous than ever… more than any of us can imagine. Potter will be dead in a week if something is not done to stop it."

Sirius was on the verge of exploding. This was all too much to take. "Albus, what are we going to do?"  
  
"We will have to take him away from his relatives, Albus. Let him stay here, with the Order. We have to do everything possible to keep him away from the hands of Voldemort, he's our only hope--"  
  
"This is the reason why I have assembled you three," Dumbledore said, looking deeply troubled. "Harry is in mortal danger, especially now that he has realized their connection. He is much too young to deal with the full wrath of Voldemort. We must get him stronger and continue his education at Hogwarts. He will need protection."  
  
"W-wait a second!" Snape jumped up from his chair, suddenly seeing where this was going, as only Snape could see. "Did you say... _protection_?"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I did not stutter, Severus."  
  
"You can't mean–"  
  
"I do."  
  
"_Bodyguards_?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
Severus looked insulted. "You... you have _got_ to be out of your mind, Dumbledore!" he said, throwing all politeness aside. "I... I am a Professor at Hogwarts. How can I tail around Potter _and _teach Potions. It--it's not probable!""I have already taken all of this into account," Dumbledore said. "Please, sit and listen, Severus. I have much more to say."

Snape remained on his feet.  
  
"Us? Be Harry's bodyguards?" Sirius said slowly, as if not fully comprehending what was being said. As happy as Sirius was with the idea, he found it to be quite impossible.  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Again, I did not stutter."  
  
"But how? I am being chased by the ministry. And Remus here... he's been banished from the school! And Snivellus, like the git says, is a teacher. This is impossible... how are we to protect Harry under these circumstances?"  
  
"Under disguise, of course," he said, his eyes twinkling over toward Snape.  
  
"No... no, you _cannot_ be serious... not the–"  
  
"Exactly that, Severus. The Belgum Potion."  
  
"The Belgum what?" Sirius and Remus said in unison.  
  
"The Beglum Potion..." Snape's mouth was hanging open, a vein popping out of his head. Dumbledore went on, "It is a powerful potion that can disguise you from your regular form as of now, as to the form you took as a student of Hogwarts..."  
  
Sirius's eyes lit up. Did this sound like he thought it sounded?!  
  
"Taking this potion, you will resume your fifteen year old selves, and become fellow Gryffindor's of Harry's class once again." Snape choked as Dumbledore spoke. "You will share dorms with Harry, share the same classes as Harry," Snape was now hyperventilating, "you will even grow to be his _friend_." Snape nearly slid off his chair.  
  
"Wh_-WHAT_?!"  
  
Sirius and Remus looked toward each other, and then back toward Dumbledore.  
  
"Severus... you will accompany Harry but for the classes you teach Potions. All other times, you will be expected to be in your younger form. As for you, Sirius... a simple Eye-Color charm will be sufficient. Harry will know your eyes too well, no matter how young you may seem."  
  
"Wait," Sirius said, finally comprehending. "You're telling me… we're going to be his _bodyguards_?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"I'm going to get out of this hell hole?"

Dumbledore nodded again.

"For a whole _year_?"

Nod.

"And watch over Harry?"

Nod.

"As a… a student? A fifteen year old _student_?"

Nod.  
  
"Isn't Hogwarts the safest place for Harry, Albus?" Remus asked, eager to cut off Sirius, who was now looking dazed. "How could a Death-Eater possibly harm him–"  
  
"There are ways, I'm afraid," he said slowly. "There are many ways that Voldemort, at his full power, can get a hold of Harry, despite my protection."  
  
"Alas, I ask you all to take this matter seriously. I understand that for some of you," he looked toward Sirius and Remus, "this will be like old times. But you must not let good times blind you from this very, very serious mission. I expect you all to be alert... his life, and perhaps the life of many others, rest in your hands..."  
  
They nodded. Snape seemed to be terribly shocked of the news. He was not moving or speaking. In fact, Sirius wasn't even sure if he was taking in air, due to the slight blue tone of his skin.  
  
"How could you be sure it's Harry?" Remus asked, only learning of the prophecy recently. He still couldn't swallow it thoroughly. "_Him_ fighting _Voldemort_? How could he... it's impossible..."  
  
"_Ah_–but Harry has hidden powers that we can only dream of." The room seemed to grow even quieter. "You know this... you can feel it, as I can. He is... truly... our only hope.  
  
And with that, Dumbledore stood up, vanishing his chair with a tap of his wand. He looked toward the group. "I understand it only takes a day to brew, so I expect the potion as soon as possible, Severus. I will be waiting for a full report by sundown."  
  
"I expect you all to resume your shapes for tomorrow morning for the first time. You have many school applies to buy before the school year, if I am not mistaken. And Sirius... need I remind you... not a word to Harry." And with that he smiled, wished them the best, and turned to leave.  
  
"Ah, Severus... if you could meet me outside for a word..." he said without turning around. Severus let no moment to waste, for he would do anything else than to spend another second in the same room with his old 'school friends'.  
  
Sirius remained sitting, his eyes staring blankly toward where Dumbledore had sat moments before.

"Um. Sirius?" Remus said, waving his arm in front of his face. "Are you--"

"I can't believe this!" Sirius said, jumping up. "I'm going to--!"

"Yes, yes, I know, I know," Remus said, taking his arm and leading him out into the dark hallway. "You'll be able to see Harry again, but Sirius--"

"This will be great!" Sirius cried out. "I--I can't believe it! This is… incredible! Amazing!"

"It's incredible, is it?" Remus said slowly. "It's incredible that Voldmort is after your son? It's incredible that Harry is in so much danger, he needs three fully-grown wizards to guard him?"

"Er… no, well…" Sirius said, scratching his head. "I--you know I didn't mean it like that, Remus. I'm just…"

Remus smiled. "I know, my friend. I know."

The excitement ebbed away, and Sirius felt Remus's words plunge into him as if he took a dive into ice cold water…  
  
Voldemort never had his full sights set on anyone before, in all the history of his existence. There were always other priorities… always people to kill, places to exterminate.

But this time, the Dark Lord's whole existence revolved around Harry. And, Sirius knew, Voldmort would stop at nothing to kill the boy if his own existence was at stake. A Dark Lord cbeing challenged was deadly.

Nothing could stop Voldemort when he had his sights set on something. Especially when it concerned death. The Dark Lord's specialty…

His godson was in mortal danger, and he suddenly felt very guilty about being happy.  
  
"Don't worry, Sirius," Remus said encouragingly. "With us two... er--two and a _half _there protecting Harry...," he chuckled, "Voldemort will have a pretty rough time, don't you think?"  
  
Sirius smiled. "Of course. We're only the _best_ there is," he said sarcastically. "Ever since our Hogwarts days, that's how it has been, hasn't it?"  
  
"Oh... the good old days." Remus laughed, reflecting back on the good times they had.  
  
"Yes... and they'll be back again with us in only a few days time."  
  
The two laughed in pure joy, happier than ever to be together as friends once again. The years have proved to be cruel to them both, but it all seemed to be paying off. Since Hogwarts, Sirius, Remus, and James have always been friends, and even now, nothing has changed. As their laughter echoed throughout the walls, they could almost hear their lost friend's laughter echoing in chime with them as it did those many years ago, brightening even the dirty, dark walls of Grimmuald Place...  
  
Friends truly did last forever.

So busy. I am sooo utterly busy.

Soccer twice a week, jazz band Tuesday nights, AP Art every night of the week, pulling all-nighters on Thursday, football games to conduct on Friday nights, publication work sessions Monday and Thursday nights, school homework, a college art test to take, my art books due in only two weeks, my second art project due in two days, saxaphone lessons on Monday nights… and oh, so much more.

But still, somehow, I will post a chapter to this story daily, or every two or, at the maximum, three days. I may be busy, but this is one of the things on the top of my list.

You can count on me.

Review?


	4. Drained

A/N: I dedicate this chapter to my best friend, Courtney, who helped me come up with an idea or two for this chapter and the next!  
  
Disclaimer: For goodness sakes, people, I don't own the frigg'n books or characters!

THE BELGUM POTION

Chapter Three: Drained

"Wake up, boy!" screeched the high-pitched voice of Aunt Petunia as she pounded at his door. "There are chores to be done! Wake up _now_!"  
  
Harry looked toward his door, scowling at the sound of his Aunt's screeches. That was the _last _thing he wanted to hear in the morning, especially after another sleepless night. Closing the text book he was reading, Harry stood up and stretched his limbs.  
  
He glanced over at the time. It was 6.30 in the morning, and _already _she was making him do chores. He didn't know if he could handle another day… especially in his current state.  
  
His stomach grumbled horribly as he dressed in Dudley's old clothes, which hung very long and loose on his frame. He couldn't stand eating dietary foods anymore. Usually, he would send word to his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, for cries of help by owl, where they would respond with pumpkin cakes and raspberry pies. Oh, how good they sounded right now. His mouth watered.  
  
But, of course, that was out of the question. No owl post was allowed, Harry remembered angrily. So Dumbledore wanted him to starve, did he? Well, he might just get his wish.  
  
Taking all the time he could to get ready for the day, he walked over to his window and opened it, breathing in the fresh air. He scanned the sky for any sign of an owl, even know he knew quite well there would be none. He was just desperate, that was all.

It was getting to that point in time when his Hogwarts letter should be arriving, but he found no use in getting excited. How he was supposed to acquire his things for the new school year, he did not know. What was Dumbledore planning to do with him? Had he forgotten that Harry had no way of getting to school?  
  
Of course not, Harry thought to himself, pushing aside the panic. He couldn't just have forgotten him… could he have?

Harry found it highly possible. School was only 10 days away. He was sure by now, most of the students were already at Diagon Alley, acquiring their school things for the new year. He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank. He wouldn't be surprised if they were right inside Honeydukes right now, talking and laughing…  
  
Harry shook his head. No… he couldn't torture himself like this.  
  
Harry made his way down the stairs of the house he despised so much. It felt as if he was going to faint at any moment from his lack of food and sleep combined. The dream of the previous night must have taken more out of him than he had realized.  
  
"Well, it's about time, boy," Aunt Petunia greeted him with the usual sneer as he made his entrance into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon and Dudley sat at the table, watching the news on the television. Aunt Petunia thrusted him an apple, along with a piece of paper.  
  
An apple, Harry groaned, and a small one at that. He was so hungry, he could eat a whale. Glancing at the size of Dudley, he quickly changed his mind.  
  
"What's this?" Harry asked, holding up the paper without examining it. He was too dizzy to interpret it.  
  
"A list of chores, can't you read?" she said without glancing at him, taking her seat beside Vernon. He almost drooled at the sight of the oatmeal they were eating. Quickly, he turned his attention to the paper, not being able to bare his hunger any longer.  
  
The list wasn't pleasant at all. In fact, it was three times more than Harry usually had to do. Harry groaned. This could only mean one thing, and one thing only…

Uncle Vernon was getting a visitor… someone from his uncle's work, he presumed. This wasn't exactly good news. He would have to spend the evening stuck up in his room again. He would rather work the whole day than to stay up there, where every thought and memory he knew crept up on him…

The graveyard… _Cedric_…

He bit into his sour apple immediately following this thought, willing to do anything to not think on it for another moment. He screwed up his face from the effect the sourness had on his tongue. Aunt Petunia caught this, and smiled her horse-like smile. It was better than nothing, he decided, taking another bite and ignoring his aunt.  
  
"This is going to be it," his Uncle was saying. Harry could tell that he was continuing the conversation they were having before he arrived. "This time, we're hitting the big one. Mr. McKinley is even higher on the chart than Mr. Mason was or ever could be. If I make this deal, we'll be swimming in income, you mark my words."

Dudley looked happy about this accusation. He would be going off his diet for a night after all. Harry rolled his eyes. If Dudley got any bigger, he was sure he would be setting off a new world record. "And you, _boy_." His Uncle and Aunt were looking at him with cold fury. Harry gulped; he knew what was coming. 

Harry was just way too used to this routine by now.  
  
Vernon stood up, his fat face showing a tinge of purple. "Don't you think I'm letting you off the hook after what happened _last _time..." His pork hands made a fist. "I swear, boy, if there's one more--_incident_--inside this household, you will wish you have never been born!"  
  
Harry returned the glare, gripping his apple so hard that the juices flew freely down his fingers.  
  
"I mean it this time," Vernon said. Dudley smirked from behind him. This was getting so old. "Your Aunt Petunia and I have been _far_ too generous to the likes of _you_ for _far_ too long. One more toe out of line, and you're out of here. We'll put you where we should've put you all those years ago--an _orphanage_. Do I make myself clear?!"  
  
Harry wanted to say that he would be much happier there than he would here, but he knew that if he was shipped off to an orphanage, he could say goodbye to Hogwarts forever. The very thought of never going back to school almost made him black out.  
  
"I said, DO--I--MAKE--MYSELF--CLEAR?!" he yelled, his face turning a darker purple. "NO owls, NO blowing up people, NO flying cars, NO throwing deserts, NO NOTHING! DO YOU HEAR ME BOY?"  
  
Harry decided he had to step down and put a tap on his emotions. Any more magic could expel him from Hogwarts, he was sure of it. And _that _was the _last _thing he wanted to do. Taking a breath of air and counting slowly to ten, he nodded reluctantly. "Yes, _sir_."  
  
"After you are done with your chores, it's up to your room with you. You will _cease_ to exist for the time that Mr. McKinley is here."  
  
"Yes, _sir_."  
  
"You will make NO sounds," growled Vernon.  
  
"Yes _sir_."  
  
"You will cause NO catastrophes."  
  
"Yes _sir_."  
  
"Or you will be GONE!"  
  
"I wish." Vernon turned a darker shade of purple. "Er--I mean... yes, _sir_."  
  
Vernon grunted and sat down again in front of his half empty oatmeal (Dudley stole the other half while he was busy with Harry), while Aunt Petunia eyed Harry with utmost disgust. Again, Harry thought, some things would never change. And with that, he turned away from them and left the kitchen, relieved to be out of Vernon's spit range. His eyes turned to his list:  
  
1) Dust and clean entire living room.  
  
_Only a week left before school starts_, Harry thought to himself. _You can last a week... it's only a week._  
  
And so, Harry went to it. It was going to be a _long_ day.

---

Ta da. On to the next chapter. It's almost done, guys. 80 percent done.

Thanks so much for the reviews! They make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Most of 'em, anyway.


	5. The Babysitter

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter... or its characters... I give all the credit to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 4–The Babysitter

THE BELGUM POTION

Chapter Four: The Babysitter

"Do you think he'll let us tryout for the House Team?" Sirius asked Remus as they made their way down to Snape's classroom. Today was the first day that they would try out the potion, because they needed to get their school supplies from Diagon Alley, and it was important that they were not discovered. Sirius highly doubted that he could shop without getting chucked back to Azkaban.  
  
"That's a tough one, Sirius," Remus answered his previous question. "We'll have to ask Albus about that one. I don't see why we wouldn't be able to, as our skills hadn't change since we were young. I haven't touched a broom since our 7th year of Hogwarts. And you... Well…"  
  
Sirius nodded, a sick feeling rising in his stomach. He didn't even want to think about Azkaban.  
  
Reaching the Potions classroom, they took a seat at two of the desks in front of Snape's, who didn't seem to be there yet. "The slimy git... he told us 8 o'clock, so where is he?"  
  
Remus shrugged lazily. "I'm sure he has his reasons." His eyes studied the classroom as a smile appeared on his aging face. "To think... we'll be sitting here in this classroom in a couple of days among our fellow students. It'll be like old times."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius said. "Except... Lily and James won't be here, will they? It could never be the same without them..."  
  
"Oh, but you're wrong, Sirius," Lupin said. "They'll be here... just not in the way that you think."  
  
Sirius looked up at his old friend, and smiled widely.

Harry.  
  
And at that moment, the classroom doors were flung open by an irritable looking Snape. Well… more irritable looking than _usua_l, that is.  
"What took you so long, Snivellus?" Sirius barked. "You're ten minutes late!"  
  
Snape stopped in his tracks and glared at Black. "Watch your step with me, Black," Snape spat. "Unless you want your dear little _godson_ to get into the wrong _hands_."  
  
Black stared at him. "What are you _talking_ about?"  
  
"I am late," he began, continuing to look at Black and Lupin with hatred, "because the headmaster has assigned me a little... mission."

Black stood up. He thought he knew where this was going...  
  
"I am to go collect Potter from his relatives and bring him safely to school in order to acquire his things for the new year," Snape said, smiling with the look that formed on Black's face. "If you want me to bring your little godson back here safe and sound, I suggest you show me more respect, Black. If not, the results will be against you. Am I understood?"  
  
Black was raging in anger. If it weren't for Lupin's grasp on him, forget the wand--he was sure that he would have flung himself on him instantly.  
  
"I don't believe it!" Sirius shouted. "Why in the hell would Dumbledore assign such a thing to… to _you_?"

"He must have thought I was the best man for the job," he replied.

This was just taking it a step to far by Sirius's standards. He always knew that Dumbledore's words were always best, but _really_? Severus Snape go and collect Harry Potter? How could Dumbledore allow this to happen!?

"You--YOU'RE NOT TOUCHING A HAIR ON HIS HEAD--"

"Sirius, just calm down--"

"No, I _won't_ calm down, Remus," Sirius yelled at his best friend, watching Snape's smile from across the room. "LET GO OF ME."  
  
"Both of you--stop this at once!" Remus yelled. "You heard Dumbledore. No more fighting. Harry's life depends on it!"  
  
"Oh, believe me, I am _not_ doing this for Potter!" Snape said almost too quickly.  
  
"Then who are you doing it for?" Sirius growled at him, finally resisting the temptation to wring his arms around Snape.  
  
"That, Black, is none of your business," he said, before turning away from them. He walked toward his desk without another word and grabbed a metal box from one of his many drawers.

Sirius and Remus just exchanged glasses as Snape slowly took out a glass container from the inside of the box slowly and carefully, as if any sudden movement could cause catastrophe.

"Now, listen carefully, both of you." He picked up one of the containers. "The Belgum Potion isn't to be taken lightly. It is a very powerful substance, and can go wrong--_terribly wrong_--if used incorrectly."  
  
"You will both meet me back here, in this very classroom, in exactly three days to retake the potion. Is that clear? _Three days._" 

"Why every three days?" Remus asked. "Is that when it wears off?"

Snape glared at him, upset that he was interrupted. "Obviously," he growled. "And if you fail to retake the potion, you will die a very quick, slow death." Snape made sure to look toward Black when he said this.  
  
"What--what do you mean?" Remus interrupted again. "How do we stop taking the Belgum Potion after we're done with this mission, then?"  
  
"It's an addiction," Snape went on, ignoring him, "and after you take it today, your body will not be able to live on without it. As I said before, we must meet here every week to retake it. When we are done with protecting _Potter_, I will come up with an antidote that will cure our bodies of this little _disease_." He looked at them. "Did I make myself _clear_?"  
  
"Quite," Lupin said, nodding.  
  
Snape looked to Sirius, who was still shaking slightly. "If I found out from Harry that you harmed even _one_ hair on his head, you'll have to answer to me, Snape."  
  
Snape's lip curled. "Oh? And I assume I should be worried?" Snape said, thrusting the potion into Sirius's hands. "You can't even make yourself useful for the Order, Black. You are no threat to myself, Voldemort, or _anyone_ for that matter."  
  
"STOP!" Lupin intervened, grabbing Sirius again from lunging onto Snape. "End this now, there's no time and no need for it! If we're going to do this, we have to--"  
  
"_Quiet_, Lupin," Snape snapped. "You both have a potion to drink. After you transformed--which will prove to be quite painful the first time, may I add--go on to Diagon Alley and acquire your school things. I," he looked disgusted with the very thought, "have some _babysitting_ to do."  
  
And with that, Snape left the classroom.  
  
"I mean it, Snape," called Sirius after him. "If you let ANYTHING happen to Harry--"  
  
"Sirius, calm down," Lupin said, pushing his shoulders down into the chair as Snape left the scene. "Nothing bad will happen to Harry. Dumbledore wouldn't have sent Snape if he didn't trust him. You know as well as I do that Dumbledore knows what he's doing."  
  
Sirius said nothing. He was holding up the potion and eyeing it closely. "Think it's poisoned?"  
  
"Let's get this over with," Remus said. Taking off the lids to their potions, they both quickly drank down the small amount of liquid. It felt very hot, yet strangely as cold as ice when going down.

Sirius threw down the glass container down upon the floor. He grasped his neck with his hands as his throat erupted in pain. It felt as if tiny needles were puncturing his airway. Next to him, he heard Lupin do the same. A pain unlike he had every felt before was spreading throughout his body to the tips of his fingers and toes.

Snape was right, the git. This was painful.  
  
This day had turned out to be worse than Harry could have imagined. The list of chores his Aunt had given him was taking a toll on his body. In his current state, he felt as if he would pass out at any given moment. As he trimmed the last hedge out in the yard, he flew his back onto the hot ground. He was covered in dirt and soot from head to toe, and his head was so dizzy he felt the world turn as he lay there. His head was burning even worse than before. It felt so heavy... so painful...  
  
"BOY!" He groaned; it was his Uncle Vernon, yelling from the upstairs window. "COME IN RIGHT THIS INSTANT."  
  
Harry had difficulty getting to his feet, but successfully made it to the door without falling over. He turned the doorknob and stumbled in wearily. This was turning out to be a lot like his 2nd year when the Mason's had arrived, he decided.

"Look at you, boy, you're a _disgrace_," he said as his Aunt handed him a plate with a messily-made turkey sandwich on it. It wasn't as big as Harry would have liked it to be, but it was certainly better than nothing.  
  
"You remember what we talked about!" Vernon snarled, inches away from Harry's face. He was dressed in his best suit… in fact, it was the same one he wore with the Mason's. Harry thought he looked like an oversized penguin. Looking at Aunt Petunia and Dudley, he saw that they, too, were overdressed. "Not one word boy… not one sound!"  
  
"Yes... _sir_." He was looking at his sandwich, completely ignoring his Uncle's shouts. His mouth watered as he turned to go up the stairs.  
  
"YOU'LL NEVER GO TO THAT SCHOOL AGAIN, AND I MEAN IT THIS TIME!" He shouted up at him as he reached the top and was making his way down the hallway. "IF I--"  
  
Ding Dong.  
  
Vernon's face went white. He was evidently very nervous. Harry heard Vernon assemble Aunt Petunia and Dudley in their places, preparing to put up their little 'charade' for the business man, as they always did with an important visitor. He took a bite of his stale sandwich. It wasn't Hogwarts food, but it wasn't bad all the same.

He opened the door to his room and went in, inhaling his dinner with a few bites. For some reason, he felt hungrier than he was even before the sandwhich… and that was saying something. Licking the crumbs off his fingers didn't help, either.  
  
He threw himself down on his bed, unable to stand up anymore. He must have had a fever… he felt even sicker than he did this morning. Harry never, in all his years, got sick. He was always quite healthy, even with the life he lived with the Dursley's.

His stomach rumbled. "Quite down, won't you?" he hissed at it. "I know already." He looked around his room, half expecting Dobby the House-elf to make an appearance any moment. That was just his luck.  
  
Looking over at Hedwig, he immediately felt bad. She hadn't eaten yet today. He stumbled over to where she was perched and scribbled some words down on some old parchment: Feed her, I have nothing here.

Harry knew that no owl post was allowed, but he had to get Hedwig out of her cage. Somehow. He was sure  
  
"Don't worry, Hedwig," he said soothingly as he tied the note onto her leg. "Go on to Ron's house... he'll have something for you. Go on." His owl looked at him almost sympathetically before giving him a soft 'hoot' and flying off to the evening sky.

Harry had to grab on to the windowsill as a dizzy spell came over him. His muscles ached terribly, his stomach was still trying to make conversation, and his eyes were as heavy as weights. But he couldn't sleep… no. He wouldn't be able to handle it if he had to see Cedric die one more time…

Plus, if Voldemort would try another stunt like he did last night, Harry wouldn't be surprised if he would never wake up _again._

Not that Dumbledore or anyone would _care _for that matter…. They obviously weren't trying very hard to get him out of there, were they? He was _still _stuck at the Dursley's, with only a little more than a week before term started. The longest he had to stay there for _ever…_  
  
He looked toward the clock. It was 7:34. He had approximately 11 hours to stay awake before his Aunt would be knocking on his door, waking him up…

Harry jolted up from his bed. His scar gave him a sudden twinge of pain as he heard the front door open. He touched his scar with his hand, wondering why it had reacting in such a way, but somehow, he already knew…

The person that walked through that door wasn't your average, everyday muggle.

Could it be a death eater? Could Voldemort have found out his location? Why else would his scar react in such a way?  
  
Suddenly he was wide awake as he grasped his wand out of his jean pocket. He knew he would be dead if he went to do some investigating and was caught by his Uncle, but he knew if it was a death eater, he would be dead anyway.  
  
He heard the intruder's voice greet his Uncle Vernon. It was a cold, deep voice that Harry knew he had heard once before... but where? Was it one of the voices he heard behind the masks at the graveyard last June…?

He moved closer to the door and made up his mind instantly. He was going to invisigate. If it _was _a death eater, he was going to be prepared, that was for sure.  
  
Ever so slowly he made his way across the hall with his wand out, his feet cat-like on the rug's surface.

Why would Voldemort send someone to the Dursley's after him, he thought? Dumbledore says that at his home is where Harry is safest, but how could that be, if a death eater just waltzed right through his front door?

Harry stopped cold in his tracks as he heard the voice speak once again. _No_, Harry thought in alarm _It couldn't be!_  
  
He peeked his head over the top of the stairs as he looked down with caution . He felt his heart skip a beat and felt himself take in air as the Dursley's guest suddenly turned his head around and looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a quick instant.

Harry threw himself to the other side of the hall way.

He couldn't believe what he had just seen. Was this an allusion? Was it all a dream? A mistake?

But no. He was sure… those eyes, that venomous voice…

It was Professor _Snape_, here, inside his _house._

-------  
  
Sorry for the cliffy. But c'mon, as a writer, you gotta love them.

Of course, I'll be expecting the "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" reviews, but the cliffy remains.

The next chapter is already done. Just making some alterations… it'll be up in a short time. Review, if you please.


	6. Mr McKinley

Disclaimer: I don't own it _already_!

  
**THE BELGUM POTION**

Chapter Five: Mr. McKinley

Snape couldn't believe he was doing this. He was standing right outside of _Potter's_ door, dressed in muggle clothes, about to meet his _family_. He wanted to be anywhere else in the world--except maybe beside the Dark Lord--than _here_.  
  
How did the Headmaster expect him to go into the muggle home pretending he was some kind of dealer (whatever _that _was), grab Potter and get him out of there without causing too much of a commotion? It was damn near impossible!  
  
It took a lot of self-discipline, but he successfully rang the doorbell without making it burst into flames from the anger he was feeling. Seconds later, a plump child who he supposed would be Potter's cousin, opened the door dressed in some outrageous muggle suit.

"Why, hello Mr. McKinley!" said the boy over enthusiastically. "May I take your coat, sir?"  
  
"No," grunted Snape. He found he could not even smile for the poor excuse of a human. "I would prefer it on." His wand was in his right hand pocket, and he would in no way part from it, especially when he was entering the household of _Potter_.  
  
"Hello, Mr. McKinley!" a fat man came out of nowhere and shook his hand. Snape put on a _very_ tense smile, while cursing Dumbledore under his breath. Studying the man in front of him, Snape realized this must have been the boy's Uncle.__

He looks like an oversized penguin, he thought.

And then, as if it was all some sort of charade, a skinny looking woman called from the kitchen, "Oh, Vernon! Vernon dear! Dinner is almost ready!"  
  
"Excellent, Petunia!" Harry's Uncle said. "She is making her finest, if I may say," he said, turning back to 'Mr. McKinley'. "Her roast beef dinner is exquisite, finer than you can find in any restaurant, I assure you!"  
  
Snape rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to survive this, and believe it when said, he survived a lot worse than having dinner with some insane muggle family. But _this_… this may just be too much for him to handle.

When he got back, he was going to strangle the Headmaster!

Just when he was starting to wonder where the blasted _Potter_ was, his eyes met with a pair of bright green ones from the top of the stairs. He immediately threw his eyes off of them.  
  
What was going on here? Why was Potter upstairs, obviously hiding? Shouldn't he be down here with his idiotic muggle family, as he expected? But looking around at the portraits that covered the walls like wallpaper, he could not find any evidence that the boy wizard even _existed_.

As the two muggles lead him into the small and overly tidy living room, Snape continued to look around for some sign of Potter's presence, but to no use. Every picture frame in the house hold seemed to show no sign of the wizard, and nothing in the house showed even the slightest sign that a wizard even lived there.  
  
This was not what Snape had predicted at all. But no matter...  
  
In front of him on the couch sat the boy's Uncle and cousin, and in came the woman Snape supposed was his Aunt. She took a seat next to the bigger penguin.  
  
_What a strange looking couple, _Snape thought. _How could this woman have been related to Lily Evans? _  
  
"So," Vernon said. "Do you have a family at home, sir?" Snape was snapped out of his thoughts and forced to look at the family before him, wearing the most fake smiles he had ever seen. He kept his composure, as much as he would have liked to just hex them all, grab the boy, and leave.  
  
"No."  
  
"Er--you don't," he mumbled. His big 'charade' didn't seem to be going as planned. "Well! Do you play golf, sir? Because do _I _have a joke for _you_!"  
  
"No," Snape said. "In fact, I do not play." He had never heard of such a ridiculous word in his life. Golf... what was this rubbish?  
  
"I see…" Vernon said. He then looked to his wife, as if telling her to speak. She just stared back at him, as if frozen.  
  
It looked as if the Dursley's weren't expectant of Snape's behavior, but he wasn't about to give in the extra effort to be accepted by such people. He had no interest in them whatsoever. He had to somehow excuse himself and get to Potter, without arousing suspicions, as Dumbledore suggested.  
  
"Oh! Well... that must be dinner!" Petunia said cheerfully, finally finding a way to break the stone silence. Dudley's eyes lit up and followed his mother hastily into the kitchen. He just said the word he loved most.  
  
"Right-o, Petunia! If you will, Mr. McKinley--"  
  
Snape cut in coldely, finally finding an opening to excuse himself. "I will be right with you, sir, but I am in use of your lavatory. If I may be excused." Snape passed the awe-stricken Vernon and didn't even wait for him to answer as he made his way up the stairs, cursing under his breath.

The boy was going to get it. Snape was in a sour mood, and who better to take his frustrations out on than Potter?  
  
"_Chocolate Frog_!" Sirius yelled at the gargoyle, which immediately sprang aside. He made his way up the stairway elevator, and knocked loudly on Dumbledore's office doors.  
  
"Come in," said Dumbledore from inside.  
  
Sirius did just that. Finding Dumbledore standing by Fawkes, he walked over to him angrily. "Albus! How could you have sent Snape!?" He tried his best to keep his voice even, but was unsuccessful. "You know how much he hates Harry!"  
  
"Why, yes... I do. And that is the reason I sent him."  
  
Sirius raised his eyebrows at him. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Whenever Snape looks at Harry, he sees James. Nothing more. He sees the rival and enemy that he used to see those many years ago... not the 15 year old that we see today."  
  
Sirius just stared at him.  
  
Dumbledore continued. "It will be impossible for Snape to complete this mission if he continues to see this quality through Harry. I want him to find out more about the boy behind his father... do you understand, Sirius?"  
  
Sirius shook his head. "No. No, I don't." He rubbed his eyes. "Snape will never change."  
  
Dumbledore placed his hand on Sirius's shoulder. Sirius looked up at him, startled to see how much taller he seemed. "Please understand, Sirius, that Severus is just as human as you and I."  
  
"Yeah, well..." he turned away from Dumbledore. "I wish he would act more human. Remus is a damn werewolf, and he acts more human than Snape ever will."  
  
Dumbledore stayed silent, watching him intently. Sirius seemed to be mixed in his own thoughts.  
  
"You're sure?" He looked to Dumbledore, regaining his composure. "You're sure he won't hurt Harry?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled at him. "Yes, I am quite sure. Understand, Sirius, you were in Azkaban thirteen years." Sirius winced at the mention of the wizard prison, but kept his composure nonetheless. "You left thinking Severus was a death-eater, as many thought the same at the time. But even before the incident that Halloween 1981, he has been on the Order's side, and hasn't turned his back on us yet. I trust him, as I do you, with my life."

Sirius mentally rolled his eyes, but dared not to physically.

"And thus, I trust him with Harry's life as well. As I said before, Severus is human, whether you wish to see it or not. It is not in his nature to harm Harry in anyway, no matter how much he despised his father. I have my full confidence that Harry will soon be back at Hogwarts, safe and sound."

"Yeah, well... I'm still not okay with it," Sirius said. "But you've never steered me wrong before..." he ran his fingers through his tangled hair. "But if he DOES harm one hair on his head, Albus, do I have permission to strangle the git with my two bare hands?!"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Really, Sirius, do you need to ask my permission? I am sure you would strangle Severus anyway, with or without my word. Ever since your Hogwarts years, you never were one to stick with rules."

Sirius smiled proudly. "Yes, but it would feel so much better strangling him if I knew you were on my side."

"Very well, then. You have my permission."  
  
Satisfied, Sirius went to make his exit. "Oh, and Sirius," Dumbledore called. Sirius looked over his shoulder. "I am aware that with Harry by your side that it will be very much like it was when you were a student at Hogwarts. But it is crucial that you do not forget what is at stake here. Do not confuse the future with the past."  
  
Sirius nodded. "I know. Things can never be the same, again. Not without..." Sirius felt his voice break, not even attempting to finish off his sentence.

And with that, he walked out of the office, leaving Dumbledore there to stare after him.

As Sirius made his way past the gargoyle, he stopped in front of a glass window in the corridor and walked up to it. _What Dumbledore said was right_, he thought as he looked at his own reflection. _It's going to be _exactly _like the old days._  
  
He never thought he would ever again look back into the reflection he once did all those years ago. His fifteen year old self was looking right back him... he could barely recognize himself. He had the same long, mangled dark hair, the same eyes (yet now they were blue instead of the black they used to be, thanks to a handy charm), and the same handsome face he was sure that died the day he went to Azkaban. But here it was, his again... back in the castle where all his happiness lived.  
  
He smiled as he began to walk down the hallway. He saw the younger version of Remus waiting for him at the end of the hall, smiling at him. He was a little shorter than Sirius, with short dirty blond hair and a witty look about him.  
  
"Ready to start another year at Hogwarts?" His old friend asked him, his voice up several notches from what it once was.  
  
Sirius walked up to him and threw his arm around his shoulder. "I can't wait, Remus. I can't wait..."  
  
---

Eh.

….

That is a hint of my intelligence. My SAT scores on Saturday will probably less than 30.

If I don't update in less than five days, I died, because my parents have slain me, due to my stupidity. I was unable to get good enough SAT scores to get into college, and they have burned me alive. Call the authorities.

But only if I don't update in less than 5 days.

…

For all you gullible people out there, I'm joking. So REVIEW, darnit, and make my last days on this earth worthwhile!


	7. Escaping the Dursley's

Disclaimer: Don't own it, nope nope nope.

****

THE BELGUM POTION

Chapter Six: Escaping the Dursley's

"Sirius!" Lupin yelled after his 15 year old friend. "Do I have to put a leash on you!? _Sirius!"_  
  
Sirius Black was running along Diagon Alley, making a complete fool out of himself. Shaking peoples hands and introducing himself, while pulling a few tricks on some others, he was clearly having the time of his life.  
  
Though Remus couldn't blame him... it had been years and years since he could run free without worrying about the Dementors or Ministry of Magic catching him. With his new disguise, not even Harry would be able to tell who he was... he was sure of it.  
  
Sirius was charming a group of female students with his look when Remus came over and grabbed him by the arm. "Excuse me, ladies," he said politely as he lead Sirius away from the group of giggling girls.  
  
"Hey, what's the big idea?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Sirius," Remus rolled his eyes, "they're fifteen year old girls!"  
  
"So? So am I!"  
  
A person who just walked by and heard the last bits of their conversation looked at Sirius very strangely. Sirius called after the onlooker, "A fifteen year old GUY, you idiot!"  
  
"You are twice their age, and you know it," Remus said, ignoring the onlooker and taking Sirius farther away from the crowd. "We didn't get _one _bit of shopping done because of you, you know. We're not here to socialize or make friends, we're here to get our school supplies."  
  
Sirius grunted. "Your old age made you less fun. You used to be _somewhat _interesting."  
  
"It's called maturity. Some people do grow up, you know," Remus said as he made his way into a robe store.  
  
"What? I'm _mature_!"  
  
"No. You're not."  
  
"Yes I am!"  
  
"No, you're not."

"I am!"  
  
"Not."  
  
"AM!"  
  
"Not."  
  
"AM!"

Harry, his back still up against the wall, felt as if he was going to pass out. What was _Professor Snape_, of all people, doing in his very _house_? What was going on here?  
  
He knew he shouldn't jump to this conclusion, because he's been wrong so many times before, but...  
  
What if Snape was here on Voldemort's orders?  
  
Harry put his head against the wall, listening faintly to Snape's conversation with his Uncle. His eyes blurred slightly as he concentrated fiercly on listening on what was going on downstairs, but he soon found he could not concentrate anymore. His fever... it had gotten worse over the course of an hour. He felt so weak... that dream the night before took something out of him. Something he couldn't explain...  
  
Harry's eyes jetted open as his ears began properly working, picking up a louder part of the conversation downstairs.  
  
"Oh! Well... that must be dinner!" he heard his Aunt say, walking across the hall into the kitchen. He then heard the thumps of his cousin, running behind her.  
  
"Right-o, Petunia! If you will, Mr. McKinley--"  
  
"I will be right with you, sir," he heard Snape say, "but I am in use for your lavatory. If I may be excused."  
  
His heart skipped a beat. Snape... he was about to come up the stairs.  
  
As fast as he could go in his current condition, he ran to his room. He made it only just in time without being seen, shutting the door just when he heard his professor reach the top step.What was going on, Harry thought as he reached for his wand. What should he do? Should he attack him, surprise him? Or was he there to take him back home, to Hogwarts? But… why would Dumbledore send _him, _of all people?

Harry was finding it hard to think clearly… his world blurred before his very eyes.

What was happening to him?  
  
Snape looked around as he reached the top of the steps. _Where is the damn boy, _heasked himself, in an obvious bad mood.  
  
He looked into the first room. Nothing... a muggle bathroom. Next one... no. Next... nope. No Potter. He was beginning to grow angry by the fourth room. Where in the hell was he?  
  
He then turned toward the door at the end of the hall. This one was it... it had to be. He could feel it. He walked towards it, and pushed it open.

Harry watched faintly as his door opened. He took his hand off the doorknob that he was using to stand strait and backed up several inches from the door, his wand still raised.  
  
The door opened wider, and there stood Professor Snape. If the situation was different, Harry probably would have laughed. He looked utterly ridiculous in his muggle clothing.  
  
"Put down your wand, Potter," Snape greeted him, catching sight of Harry's wand first and foremost and not concentrating on anything else.  
  
Harry kept it raised, yet with effort. It seemed so heavy…  
  
"I said, put it _down_," Snape repeated. "_Expelliarmus_!" Harry's wand flew out of his hand and landed in his professor's, as if taking candy from a baby. Harry couldn't find the energy to fight back, but just stared into Snape's cold eyes, as if warning him to come near."What are _you_ doing here?" Harry asked angrily.  
  
"Manners, _Potter_."

"Hell with manners, what are you doing here?!" he said slightly louder.

"What do you think I'm doing here, idiot boy? I'm here to collect you."  
  
"Yeah? On whose orders?" Harry said, straightening. He couldn't show Snape his weakness… he had to stay strong.  
  
He was fighting to stand up tall, but was losing the battle. Snape, undoubtedly, noticed the moment he walked into the room. The boy was swaying on his feet from where he stood, his eyes looking as if he hadn't slept in days, and paler than he ever remembered.

Something definitely wasn't right with this picture.  
  
He could easily come to the conclusion that the boy was mistreated, due to the comparison of his room toward the others and the locks he found on his door. He couldn't even find a picture with Harry in it when downstairs. He wondered if Dumbledore knew... but Snape wasn't one to feel pity for anyone. The headmaster _had_ warned him of something like this, but as usual, Snape hadn't taken the warning seriously.  
  
He had to admit--this was nothing to what he expected. He had no idea the boy lived this way…

Not that it changed his views on the boy, of course.  
  
"Get your belongings," he said coldly after a minute's silence.  
  
Harry stayed put, staring.  
  
"Do not make me repeat myself!" Snape said. "If you want to go back to school, you will do precisely what I say... _no objections_!" He made sure to keep his voice lowered due to the Dursley's downstairs.  
  
"Who sent you?" Harry asked, obviously not letting down his guard.  
  
Snape walked closer to Harry, studying him. "You're sick_, Potter_," he said. "When was the last time you slept?"  
  
Harry stood up taller. "I'm not sick. I feel perfectly fine, thank you."  
  
"I said..." Snape was clearly not enjoying this, "when was the last time you _slept_, Potter?!" The Professor was clearly aware of the boy's dreams--Dumbledore had told him some time ago. If they were getting worse... that could only mean--  
  
"I sleep." Harry said simply, his voice filled with hatred.  
  
"You're in bad health." Snape said, backing away from him again. "A fever... nothing Madame Pomfrey won't be able to cure," he said in almost a bored voice. "Now get your belongings. I don't want to stay here more than I have to."  
  
Snape was turning around, ready to walk out of the room when Harry asked, again, "Wh-who sent you...?"  
  
He looked over his shoulder. "Albus Dumbledore... believe me, Potter, I was not sent here out of my own _free will_..." He threw Harry's wand on the floor next to his feet.  
And with that, he left his bedroom. Harry stared after him with a look of hatred on his face. How could Harry be sure Dumbledore sent him? It didn't seem like a likely story... why would he send _him_, of all people? Why not Sirius? But then again... it would be too risky with the ministry after him...  
  
With the thought of his godfather, the yearning for him to get out of this house was growing and growing. Oh, how much he wanted to be back home... at Hogwarts, with his friends.  
  
_That settles it, _Harry thought, picking up his books and throwing them in his trunk. Whether he was talking him to Hogwarts or Voldemort, he had to get out of there. He'll worry about the consequences and ask questions later.

Snape walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where the Dursley's were sitting, obviously waiting to begin their meal. Dudley was practically drooling over the prepared dinner that sat on the table in front of him.  
  
"There you are, Mr. McKinley," Vernon said cheerfully. "If you would just take a seat--"  
  
"No thank you, Vernon, I don't think I will," he said.  
  
The family stared at him.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" Vernon said confusedly.  
  
"I am not a dealer. I am, in fact," he withdrew his wand, "a _wizard_... here to collect Harry Potter."  
  
With the sight of the wand, Petunia screamed and Dudley squealed, throwing his hands on his buttocks and running out of the room. Vernon turned pale, unlike his usual purple color.  
  
"_You_... you..." Vernon mumbled. "But, a _deale_r... I thought--"  
  
He pocketed his wand. "Just an act, so _sorry_." His voice was very sarcastic. "Albus Dumbledore instructed me to give you this," he said in a bored voice, throwing a letter out onto the table.  
  
Petunia and Vernon jumped up from the table as if he had thrown a bomb on it. "A-albus Dumbled-dore?" Petunia said. "Is that the... the--"  
  
"Headmaster of Hogwarts?" From their reactions, it was if he had sweared loudly. "Yes."  
  
There was Harry's footsteps heard on the steps during the prolonged silence along with loud clunks due to the heavy trunk he was carrying. Seconds later, Harry appeared in the hallway, out of breath.  
  
His Uncle stared at him with hate.  
  
"_BOY_!" Vernon raged. "YOU... YOU--I WARNED YOU!"  
  
Harry had to admit, he loved knowing that Uncle Vernon could do nothing to him now that there was a fully-trained wizard standing right in front of him. He held onto the wall for support as he watched the scene, not wanted to faint and miss it.And with that, Snape turned away from them, stopping at Harry's luggage and muttering _Locomoter Trunk_ before making his way to the door. Harry stood staring at his raging Uncle and his pale Aunt. He couldn't help but smile. "See you," he said, turning around.  
  
"DON'T DARE COME BACK HERE NEXT SUMMER, DO YOU HEAR ME BOY!?" His uncle yelled at the top of his lungs, his face turning the dark purple. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE OR YOUR FREAKISHNESS IN THIS HOUSE EVER AGAIN!" His Uncle didn't dare to leave his spot with two wizards in his household. Petunia was standing behind him, trembling.  
  
He spun around, glaring at them. "Believe me, I would rather go _there _than to stay another minute in this house with _you_," he said.  
  
"_Potter_, we have no time--" Snape said behind him.  
  
But he was already walking toward his relatives, his wand pointed at his Uncle. He put his sickness out of his mind for the moment.  
  
"These past fourteen years," Harry started, "you hated me… you treated me like dirt, just because of my parents. You made me live in a damn cupboard for the first eleven years of my life! You treated me like dirt... like I was non-existent!" His voice raised with every word.  
  
Snape was growing impatient. "Potter, I do NOT have all day. Get over here NOW!"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled at him, not even turning his head toward him. "Well, guess what? You succeeded! You made my life miserable!" He looked toward his Aunt. "Just because my mother was something you weren't. Well guess what! She was TEN TIMES MORE OF THE PERSON THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!"  
  
"I hate you! All of you!" he continued, his wand shaking from anger. Sparks began to spring from it, causing his Aunt and Uncle to practically dive onto the floor. "YOU--""_Silencio_," Harry heard Snape say as his wand hit Harry's head. It felt as if there was a bubble that formed in his throat. He tried to say something, but soon found that he couldn't. Snape had clearly put a silence charm on him.  
  
Harry gave Snape the dirtiest look before turning to look at his relatives with fury. Snape was also fuming with anger. "Don't _ever_ talk to me like that again, _Potter_. Now do as I say, and get _OUT_."  
  
He went to the front door and left the house, slamming it behind him. Snape turned around, his wand erect as he directed Harry's mid-air trunk, and followed Harry out of the door. As soon as he closed it, he heard Vernon's voice raging.  
  
He found Harry sitting on the ground right outside, absolutely furious. He looked up at his professor with hatred, before turning his attention to the grass again. He pointed his wand at the boy, muttered an incantation, and Harry could soon find that he could talk again.  
  
Harry put a hand up to his throat. It felt like the bubble has just popped. "Gee, thanks," he said sarcastically, rubbing his neck.  
  
"I don't want to hear it, Potter. I'm here on orders... I'm not here to deal with your childish nonsense."  
  
Harry stood up heatedly. "_Childish nonsense_?!"  
  
Snape walked across the street from his house, Harry's trunk floating up beside him. Harry followed. "What do you mean by _nonsense_?!" He was in NO mood to be respectful... he was in NO mood for ANY crap right now. After a summer of... of not knowing ANYTHING and being treated like some little 'child', the last thing he wanted was to be 'rescued' by Professor Snape. "If you had _any _idea of what living with the Dursley's--"  
  
"I have no time for this!" Snape spun around, cutting him off. "He pointed at a piece of garbage on the street. "Go on!"  
  
Harry just stared at it, and then at him. "Er--"  
  
"It's a _portkey_, Potter!" he said coldly. "Are you that dense!" It wasn't a question.  
  
Harry looked down at it. How could he trust him? With his experience with the Twiwizard Cup being a portkey.... He shook the memory out of his head. "How do I know where this will take--"  
  
Snape understood immediately. "I'm not a Death Eater," he said irritably. "It will take you back to Hogwarts."  
  
"Then why aren't you going with me?" Harry asked suspiciously. His head gave a nasty throb. He stumbled. "How can I be sure--"  
  
Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry's hands and pulled his fingers to the garbage. Harry tried to resist, but found his sickness taking over as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling a pull just above his naval. But he couldn't remember anything else after that. He felt himself black out--_finally_--his fever taking toll on him.

I'm so tired… zzz.

Review, will ya?


	8. The Burrow

Disclaimer: I... do... not... own... Harry... Potter...

****

THE BELGUM POTION

Chapter Seven: The Burrow

"I just don't understand it," Ron said, sitting down on a couch in the living room along with the twins, Fred and George. "Why can't we send him even one blasted letter?"  
  
"Keep your voice down!" George said, looking towards the kitchen in fright that their mother would hear. "If mum heard you complaining about this again, she'd throw a fit."  
  
"Oh, I don't care," Ron said, but lowered his voice anyway. "Harry is going to hate us if he doesn't hear from us. Those nasty muggles he lives with…" he made a face. "I don't understand why he can't spend some of the summer with us! There is only a couple more days until the start of school as it is. How is he supposed to get his supplies?"  
  
"I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing..." Fred said, but his words sounded doubtful as he spoke them, as if he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Ron.  
  
"Of course he knows what he's doing," said a voice from the top of the stairs. The three red-heads didn't even have to look toward the sound to know who was talking. Hermione Granger descended the stairs. "You three have to learn to trust Dumbledore. He's never steered us wrong before, has he?"  
  
"And here's _Miss-Know-It-All_... back from studying?" Ron said.  
  
"Of course not! I've gotten done studying hours before," Hermione said, thrusting out an envelope from her pocket. "If you want to know, I've just received a letter from Dumbledore."  
  
"_What_?" Ron exclaimed, standing up from his chair. "What are you talking about? There's no owl post allowed... Dumbledore was the one who enforced the rule!"  
  
Hermione took out the parchment from the envelope and showed them. "Well, this must have been rather important, if he were to break his own rules," Hermione said, keeping the letter away from Ron's grasps.  
  
"Well, go on!" George said impatiently.  
  
"Yeah, let us hear it, woman," Fred said.  
  
Hermione stepped back from them, her lips pursed. "Okay... okay already. Give me room!" She then read out loud:  
  
_  
Be sure that you and Ms. Hermione Granger have all your school supplies and everything you will need for the school year with you by 9 o'clock tomorrow morning. A wizard will be arriving at your household to pick you up and bring you to school early at that precise time.  
  
Mr. Weasley will fill you in on the rest.  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
_  
  
Hermione ended it, smiling with satisfaction. She looked up to see Fred, George and Ron looking at her with confused expressions.  
  
"..._What_?" she asked.  
  
Ron snatched the note from her hands and read it to himself. "_What_? This makes no sense!" he exclaimed matter-of-factly.  
  
Fred then took the note from Ron, reading it himself. "Yeah... why is he so short with us in this letters?"  
  
"They're obviously coded, so if anyone were to come across it, it would be hard to figure out," Hermione said. "You heard what Dumbledore said to us at the beginning of the summer. There's a good chance that now You-Know-Who is back, our owl post won't be as safe as it used to be."  
  
There was an uneasy silence.  
  
"Well..." Ron said, breaking the quiet. "I don't know why he would want us to come to school so early... it makes no sense if you ask me." His eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, Hermione! Do you think if we got this letter, Harry has one, too?!"  
  
Hermione looked uneasy. "I'm not sure..." She shifted her feet. "This letter gives me an uneasy feeling…""What do you mean?" George asked.  
  
"Why would he want us to come to school early if it _wasn't_ serious?" Hermione said, almost in a whisper. "He wouldn't just tell us to come early if there wasn't a very good reason." she sighed. "Yes... I'm sure of it. Something must be wrong."  
  
"Do you... do you think that it has to do with Harry?! Do you think that... that You-Know-Who..." Ron's voice trailed off. Fred and George's eyes grew wide.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. "I don't think we should jump to conclusions. I'm sure Mr. Weasley will tell us everything when he comes home from work... we should..." she opened her eyes, looking very serious at the three of them, " ...we should just wait patiently until then."  
  
Ron sat back down onto the couch, more depressed now then he was before. Fred and George lingered in the room as they complained for a moment to each other, and then walked up the stairs, heading towards their room.  
  
Hermione sat down on the couch besides Ron, sighing deeply. "Don't get so depressed, Ron. I'm sure everything is just fine," she said confidently, trying to sound positive. "The wards at the Dursley's couldn't have been breached that easily."  
  
"Yeah..." He said, and then was silent.  
  
And at that moment, the clock on Ron's wall chimed. Ron and Hermione looked towards it as the picture of his father moved from 'WORK' to 'HOME'. A minute later, the door in the kitchen sprang open, and Mr. Weasley walked hastily into the living room, a grave look on his face.  
  
"Dad!" Ron exclaimed, extremely surprised to see his father home from work so soon, but greatly relieved all the same. He had thought the old clock had broken. "We've just got a letter from–"  
  
"I know," he said, taking a seat in front of them. He looked terribly uneasy. "Ron... Hermione... I have some news."  
  
Hermione and Ron moved towards the ends of their seats, their faces looking desperate. He didn't have to tell them... they already knew what this was about.  
  
"It's about Harry..."

Sorry so short! I'll have the other chapter up sometime later tonight, I think, to make up for it.

Review, review, review!


	9. Rage and Truth

Disclaimer: I get so SICK of doing this. I don't own it already! --

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THE BELGUM POTION

Chapter Eight: Rage and Truth

"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!!"

"No, Sirius, _no_!" Remus said, holding Sirius's arms to prevent him from doing anything he might regret later. Even with Sirius being only 15, he was still stronger than ever. "I'm sure there is a perfectly _logical _explanation as to why Harry is in the hospital wing--"  
  
"Oh ho ho!" Sirius exclaimed, grabbing out a wand from his robe pocket. "I HAVE A WAND... I couldn't hex him before, but NOW... I'm going to make that slimy git wish he had never been BORN!"

Sirius's eyes gleamed maniacally. "AND I HAVE PERMISSION! Dumbledore, you told me if that _one hair _on Harry's head was hurt, I GET TO KILL THE SLIMY GIT! _Remus, let go of me_!"

"You're going to kill me?" Snape taunted. "Look at yourself, Black. You're a mere fifteen year old… as pathetic back then as you are now."

Dumbledore glanced at him warningly. The headmaster made him swear previously not to loose his temper, knowing full well that Sirius would get rather… testy with him. Snape, if anything, wanted to laugh, much less rage at the idiot fool.

"Why you--!"

"PLEASE, Sirius... get a hold on yourself!" Lupin yelled over him.  
  
"Sirius, please," Dumbledore said calmly. "If you would calm yourself, you would be able to hear an explanation as to why Harry is this way."  
  
Dumbledore sat humbly at his desk in his dimly lit office, eyeing Sirius with the utmost patience. He motioned them to take a seat in front of his desk. Sirius was still very heated, and wasn't about to calm down anytime soon.  
  
"Dumbledore... did you _see_ him!? Did you _see_ Harry!? How can you expect me to calm down!" Sirius said impatiently, his voice still loud, yet quieter than before. "Didn't you see Madame Pomfrey? She's worried sick!"Dumbledore nodded. He suddenly looked very old and weary. "I am quite aware of Harry's state, Sirius. Please... take a seat."  
  
Lupin put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Harry is in good hands now... the least you could do is listen to what Albus has to say," he said, leading Sirius to his seat and forcing him down into it. He then took his own seat beside him.  
  
Sirius huffed and crossed his arms. For the moment, he certainly did look like a spoiled fifteen year old.  
  
Lupin nodded to Dumbledore, asking him to go on.  
  
Sirius sat up on his chair, his fists clenched and his face tense. His godson was in the hospital wing... he wanted more than anything to be there with him. But more than that, he wanted an explanation as to _why_ Harry was this way when he was perfectly fine a couple nights before when he spoke to him in the mirror! Could a fever rise that fast? It was impossible!  
  
Dumbledore sat back on his chair. "I am sure you are questioning why Harry is so sick, and how it came by him so quickly."  
  
Sirius didn't even have to nod. In his book, it was the most stupid question he was ever asked.  
  
"It had nothing to do with Severus," he said, eyeing the professor out of the corner of his eye. "Severus was merely doing what I sent him out to do: to bring Harry back to Hogwarts with as little of a commotion as possible. And he did just that."  
  
"How can you be so sure?" Sirius asked, scowling at Snape. "He hates Harry... how do you know that he was civil with him!?"  
  
Snape stepped forward. "Potter was sick when I arrived, you fool," he snarled angrily. He was careful to keep his temper down.

"Yeah, whatever."  
  
"Enough," Dumbledore half-yelled, eyeing the two in warning. Nothing else more was needed to be said on the matter. Dumbledore's word was a good enough warning for everyone.  
  
"Now..." Dumbledore said, relaxing again. "As Severus told you, Sirius, Harry was sick for a good deal before he arrived. Arabella Figg told me several times how sick he has been getting. Gradually, day by day, his condition worsened, as her reports showed But it hasn't been as noticeable until yesterday..."

"He… he was getting sick, and you didn't do anything?"

"We could not."  
  
"Why the hell not!?"

"You know that answer," Dumbledore said. "Taking Harry away from the Dursley's would inflict a great danger upon Harry. He needs those wards now more than ever… especially ever since Voldemort heard wind of the prophecy sometime last summer after Harry escaped. We could not bring him to Hogwarts or Grimmuald Place, where the protection is less defined. We had to keep him as safe as possible."

"So you got him out of there when he captured Mundungus and heard the prophecy in full? That doesn't make sense! Why keep him there when Voldemort didn't know the words of the prophecy, and get him out of there when he did?"

"The Dursley's wards would not have been as safe anymore," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort's rage will be no match for Lily's protection, I'm afraid. He will do anything and everything to get to Harry now, even if it meant burning all of Surrey to a crisp to get to him."

"So… so you sent this bloke here to get him, then?"

"Precisely."  
  
"I don't understand," Sirius said, returning to the previous conversation. "If Harry was getting so sick, why didn't he _tell_ me?"

"He probably didn't want to worry you," Remus said. "Harry's like that."  
  
Sirius sighed. He hated that about his godson. The boy would never tell him what was on his mind!

He was much too strong for a fifteen year old….  
  
He suddenly pitied Harry immensely, and hated the feeling more than anything. Harry would be disappointed... what he needed was everything _but_ pity.  
  
"Back to Harry's condition, then." Dumbledore said, straightening up. "I cannot help but say that I expected something like this to happen."  
  
Sirius' eyes grew wide. "_What_? You _expected_ this?!"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "But it came much sooner than I have expected... indeed, much sooner. It seems that Voldmoert is beginning to slowly infect Harry's mind."  
  
Sirius nearly fell off his chair. Lupin gasped loudly, sitting rigid in his seat as if he had just been electrocuted. "Wh–_what_?!" he said, as if he didn't hear the headmaster correctly. "Albus... V-Voldemort is... _what_?!"  
  
"I did not stutter, Remus," he said.  
  
"But... you just told us at the last Order meeting that Voldemort was taking over Harry's mind... and now he's _infecting_ it?! What do you mean, Albus, what's the difference?" Remus inquired, his eyes wide and his mouth open in awe. "What _more_ bad news could you possibly give us!?"  
  
"This is what it means," Snape said, cutting in for Dumbledore. "You know how the boy gets whenever the Dark Lord gets near him. He feels a great amount of pain, due to the curse that was inflicted upon his forehead." He looked over toward Sirius. "With Voldemort in Harry's mind, it almost has the same effect. With Voldemort near, Harry will be in pain. But with Voldemort in Harry's mind... Harry's mind won't be able to function properly..."  
  
"What do you mean, Severus?" Lupin asked. "What is going to happen to him?"  
  
"My biggest fear is that the Dark Lord will have complete control of Potter's emotions and actions, if we do not do anything soon…"

There was a stunned silence.  
  
"But it will be difficult for even _him_ to master," he continued. "It will be quite a while before the Dark Lord manages to take over the boy's mind fully, especially if he has to do it hundreds of miles away, and through the walls of Hogwarts, no less."  
  
"Currently, the link to Voldemort's and Potter's mind will just cause Harry to become ill," Dumledore added. "I was afraid that this all might happen, and now I realize that I should have prepared earlier for that chance. An old man's mistake," he said solemnly, looking toward Sirius, who sat rigid in his chair.  
  
"So..." Sirius choked out, his eyes on the floor. "What're we to do...? Will Harry's fever get worse?"  
  
"I know it is much I am asking for, but a remedy will have to be made, Severus," the headmaster said, looking towards Snape. "You know of the one I'm talking about."  
  
Sirius looked towards Dumbledore. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"He will have to take Remedies, I am afraid," Dumbledore said, folding his hands upon his desk. "It will lower his fever and cause him less pain."  
  
Sirius rubbed his eyes. "So... what are you suggesting? That he needs to live off a potion in order to... to live?!"  
  
Dumbledore stood up from his desk and walked around it until he stood straight in front of Sirius. "It is going to be a hard path for Harry, Sirius... we know this. Which is one of the reasons I have ordered you on the mission of The Belgum Potion." His voice was soft and understanding, almost soothing to his ears. "You will be able to be with Harry, and provide with him the comfort that you always wanted to give him..."  
  
Sirius stood up. He had had _enough._ "I'm going to see Harry now." And with that, not another word was said. He simply turned away from them and left the office, his footsteps heavy. Not even Snape had a remark to say to him.  
  
Dumbledore bowed his head in exhaustion. "Severus... I am aware of the length of time it takes to make the remedy... but if you can start on it right away..."  
  
"Of course, Albus," Severus said as he stood up from his chair. He also turned away from them and left the office without another word. Lupin and Dumbledore were now the only ones in the room.  
  
"Albus... I just don't see how this is possible. Everything seems to be against us..."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes... but Harry is a remarkable wizard, Remus. He is made of sterner stuff that you or I realize. If anyone can get through this, he will."  
  
"But... but Voldemort being inside his mind? Voldemort knowing of the prophecy? Harry has no idea how much danger he is in..."  
  
"And let us leave him without knowing. It is the only way he can survive this," Dumbledore said, taking his seat back at this desk again.  
  
Remus suddenly looked very serious, his fifteen year old face suddenly showing much strength and wisdom. "Albus... I will do everything in my power to make sure Harry stays safe," he said, grabbing his wand unconsciously from within his robes. "I'm not going to let anything happen to him. I swear to you that."  
  
And with that, he left Dumbledore's office, leaving the headmaster quite alone.  
  
Albus looked over to his right at the sight of Fawkes, as he got lost in his own thoughts.  
  
Harry was facing a path with more obstacles in it than any wizard he has ever met, and indeed–he has met plenty of them. He was aware that Voldemort would continue to pollute the boys mind for weeks until Snape had the remedy ready, and it would be hard for Harry to control his actions in the future...  
  
He would indeed be in a lot of pain because of this fever, no doubt, until the potion was ready. And even then, the pain would live on. Dumbledore closed his eyes. Would it ever end? If only it would be him the prophecy was about. But a _fifteen _year old boy? Why did such a pure-hearted wizard have to endure such a hard life? The best wizard he had every met, in fact.  
  
He was aware that Voldemort was slowly growing to his full power, and that soon the Dark Lord would be even stronger than he. Pretty soon, he was sure that not even he would have influence over Voldemort. He would be unstoppable...  
  
But it would never be impossible. No... not with Harry Potter around. He could sense something hidden in the boy so magical, so amazing that it was indescribable. He had complete faith in the boy.  
  
He stood up from his desk and looked out the window at the starry sky above. Yes... the future had many obstacles, most to be faced by the young wizard. A war was about to begin, he knew. It would not be peaceful like this for long–Voldemort was on the rise. Harry was in danger.... And if Harry was in danger, the future was also in danger.  
  
Because Harry and the future is one in the same. Without him... there was no tomorrow.  
  
"For one cannot live while the other survives..."  
  
Hundreds of miles away, Voldemort sat in his chair in front of the fire, an evil smile on his lips.  
  
Finally... after years and years and years of waiting for an answer as to why he was defeated by a small child and then defeated time and time again afterward... he finally had an answer.  
  
The prophecy... the knowledge was now his. He knew he had to end the boy's victory before pursuing in his own reign, as the prophecy foretold. He would make sure that Harry Potter wasn't going to live to rise to powers that would rival his own. He had only one thing on his mind...  
  
The-Boy-Who-Lived was going to die.

Ya make me wanna La La! …What does that mean anyway?

Review, will ya?


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